


UNCLES and Fools

by DixieDale



Category: Girl From U.N.C.L.E., The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: April Fools Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-19 13:06:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: April Fools' Day brings out the child in (almost) everyone, even UNCLES!





	UNCLES and Fools

**April 1st, April Fools Day**

 

***Outside the office of Alexander Waverly, at the desk of Lisa Rogers:**

For such a serious place with such a serious purpose, April Fools Day seemed to bring out the child in way too many of the those who worked at UNCLE Headquarters New York. It had been that way ever since Lisa Rogers had come to work there, and it seemed to increase a little each year. She didn't see the need for it, didn't understand why Alexander Waverly didn't step down hard and put an end to it, but it was what it was, and every year she gritted her teeth and counted down the hours, sometimes the minutes, til the day was over. It was really quite astonishing, just how long it seemed to take to get from April 1st to April 2nd, much longer than what you'd expect.

If it had just been the steno pool, she herself would have quietly stepped in, talked to the Department Head, offered a few words of stern reproof, but it wasn't. Communications, Research (and the things THEY could come up with!!), Files and Records, Translation, Accounting, Wardrobe, every department throughout the building had those who joined in, including Section II.

Even Napoleon Solo, now a top agent, sometimes joined in, at least when he was around, though Valentine's Day (along with Christmas, and New Year's Eve) was more his style. Still, at least one joke or prank could usually be expected from the debonair Section II agent. 'Prince Charming', as Lisa tended to think of him, (though with a goodly amount of sarcastic disgust, certainly none of the sweet romantic connotations others might ascribe to that title), had played a few rather diabolical pranks, but was always forgiven. Well, HE was forgiven everything, wasn't he? Why Alexander let him get away with all of his nonsense, Lisa would never understand.

At least his pranks weren't messy, requiring janitorial cleanup, unlike some of the others; there was just an inate neatness about Napoleon that spared them that. That year with the dribble cups next to the coffee and iced tea dispensers on all levels was one that surely couldn't have been laid at his doorstep, but that would still live in infamy; she got very tired of hearing that way too cheerful "wet cleanup in Aisle 3!" from Communications . She still couldn't believe the staff hadn't caught on much sooner, and wondered if they'd purposefully wore blinders for most of the day.

Then there was the year where the special fluid used on the receptionists' fingers to activate the security badges had been swapped for something far less useful. Oh, it had worked to get the employees through the main entrance, but it had reduced effectiveness as the day wore on. About ten o'clock the first siren went off, and the guns came out, and feet came flying, only to find George Dennell backed up against a wall, his eyes wide and his hands raised in surrender. The alerts started coming more frequently, til it seemed that was all you heard. Well, Mr. Waverly HAD expressed his displeasure that time, and rightfully so; by 1pm all the alarms were going off every time someone passed through a security point anywhere in the building, making it impossible to concentrate or even hear yourself think.

Adding Mark Slate to the mix had upped the ante quite a bit, the transferee from London seeming to have a strong streak of mischief in him. You could add that to the reasons Lisa Rogers wasn't particularly fond of the amiable young man. She had several, actually. Even the man being away on assignment didn't spare the rest of them, as he was quite adept at setting things up in advance, though he did express regret not being around to see his plans go into action. Twerp!

Illya Kuryakin had added nothing to the mix, when he had first arrived, looking at the whole thing with bewilderment and then dismissed it as utter nonsense, which it was, of course. Oh, April Fools Day had been celebrated in Russia since the time of Peter the First, but the people Illya had been associated with were really hardly the types to get involved in anything so frivolous. With him, Lisa found herself taking the opposite tack, for some contrary reason, rather resenting him NOT taking part. Maybe it was because with HIM, it seemed as if he felt he was just too good to participate, to join in with the others. She never had been overly fond of that air of detached superiority, along with a few other traits she'd noticed. 'Ice Prince' indeed!

Now, April Dancer, despite that ridiculous Halloween Party of hers, and some other overly social notions, didn't join in, at least she hadn't the first year she'd been assigned there. Lisa Rogers was grudgingly approving of that; if the young woman was going to make it as the first woman field agent working out of the New York Headquarters, it wouldn't do to add any more of an air of frivolity than necessary. Those silly 'mod' clothes she insisted on wearing already went pretty far in that direction. Lisa had noticed Alexander wincing more than once at some of the outfits the young woman showed up in.

Gathering her work from the locked drawer of her desk, Lisa took a look at the clock, noted just how many more hours she had to be bothered with all this foolishness, sighed and went to work. No, no one played such pranks on her; they wouldn't have dared. But it was still annoying to be even an observer of such nonsense, when she (AND THEY!!) had other, far more serious matters to consider.

Her hope of being able to get to those matters died once Alexander Waverly summoned her into her office with his usual, "oh, Miss Rogers. I have a few little 'odd jobs' I need you to deal with, if you don't mind." 'Odd Jobs' was the special description they used for her more un-official duties, the ones that never appeared in the official UNCLE files. Occasionally in the newspapers, sometimes the Obituary column, but not the official files.

She gathered her pad and pen, straightened her skirt and badge, tidied her hair, and went in to take her accustomed seat, casually wondered what would be on the agenda today; she'd taken care of the O'Meara situation last evening, or really, about 2 am this morning. The overly ambitious and untrustworthy man would no longer present a problem to anyone. That last scheme of his - really, some people were just too stupid to be allowed to weaken the gene pool anyway. She felt she'd done the world a favor, along with pleasing Alexander, of course.

Well, she made the notes on her pad, in the shorthand she'd adapted just for confidential work. Read his instructions back to him, including where she would find what was needed for this assignment. She felt her back teeth grinding into each other. If this kept up, she was going to have to start wearing a retainer before she needed major dental work.

'Odd Jobs' indeed! Just how odd of a job did it have to be before she put her foot down??!

 

***In the office shared by Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin:**

Napoleon had tried to explain why Illya probably should be cautious with that box that had just arrived for him, that perhaps it shouldn't be trusted - "it's April 1st, remember."

Illya had frowned, puzzled at the reference, then rolled his eyes.

"Do you really think anyone is going to play a practical joke on me, Napoleon? Most don't want to draw my attention, unsure of how I will react. And besides, this is a game played among friends, at least here, is it not? There are . . . ". He started to say 'none that meet that criteria', but he hesitated. He just might be wrong about that. His partner, it seems, considered him that. And the British agent, Mark Slate, seemed determined that they were to be friends, brushing aside any discomfort Kuryakin might feel at that thought, and April Dancer seemed to be following right along with her partner. He started again, "there are not so many who would feel so free."

When he cautiously opened the box, to read the note inside, he smiled one of his rare smiles.

"You see, they are just chocolates, Napoleon, and I am familiar with the sender and the small candy company that makes them." He sampled one with relish, then held out the box to his partner, "here, try one; I enjoyed very much what else I sampled from this company the last time I had the opportunity to indulge."

Napoleon took one piece, decided it wasn't bad and had a second. In fact, Illya made a point of sharing with a few other people, not many, offering his best attempt at a shy smile as he held out the box. While from anyone else they might have hesitated, George Dennell and later Mandy Stevenson, then April Dancer, hadn't, especially when the offerer was indulging as well; this was Illya Kuryakin, after all, Mr. Highly Serious, not Mark Slate or even Napoleon Solo.

Later, as Napoleon paused by Illya's desk to look down into the almost empty box, seeing there were only two pieces left, he grinned and reached in to take one of the two, savoring the taste and texture.

"These really are addictive, excellent grade of chocolate, nice and crispy. What's the brand? I might have to pick up a box or two."

Illya rattled off something, then translated. "Chocolate covered crickets, Napoleon, from Thailand. Mark Slate sent them to me."

Solo gulped, swallowed hard once or twice, seeming to feel those crickets jumping around inside, then gave a weak smile. "Ah, yes, that sounds like something Mark would do," thinking he needed to have a word with the young agent about pulling a prank on someone who might not thoroughly understand the concept. Who just might react adversely.

"I am surprised he remembered me saying how much I enjoyed them. The grasshoppers are also quite good, but perhaps not so easy to find," and those blue eyes were just brimming with innocence. Napoleon looked, looked again, and wondered if he saw just a hint of mischief there. Well, probably not; he'd seen his partner eat some rather remarkable things and nod approvingly. Perhaps chocolate covered insects fit into his idea of acceptable as well.

If Napoleon had seen the rare grin cross Illya's face once the senior agent left the room, he would have stopped wondering. Meanwhile, dropping the empty box in the trash, Illya sighed with satisfaction.

{"It was good of Mark to run that little errand for me and be sure they arrived today! I just might try this April Fools Day exercise again next year! And I also must track down a closer source for those crickets, and for the grasshoppers; they really are extremely tasty!"}

 

***Elsewhere in UNCLE Headquarters New York:**

  
Meanwhile, throughout the building, the usual gamut of April Fools Day jokes and pranks were making their appearance. The little gags, the 'kiss me' sticky notes posted on someone's back, the mustard in the ketchup dispensers, that odd frog that someone tucked into the big potted plant that insisted on croaking everytime someone came within view. Some, though, were rather more inventive than the usual silliness.

Origami figures, very cunning, but leaving your fingers covered in a dust that turned various colors upon contact with your skin.

Chocolates filled with eyewateringly tangy chopped ginger, or hot pepper-laced creme

Exploding bowls of popcorn, edible, but only if you didn't mind picking your snack off the floor, chairs, cabinet tops or wherever they landed once that little device in the center went off.

'Urgent - Top Secret' notes written in 'invisible ink' that wouldn't reappear even when the instructions were followed.

There were the odd announcements that keep coming over the loudspeaker system, the ones that had people doing double takes or dashing off in all directions.

And the cards with obscure riddles that were intriguing, but had no answers included, necessitating an amazing number of people wandering around trying to see if anyone ELSE could figure them out. The fact that there WERE no answers in the first place finally dawned on a few annoyed individuals by late afternoon.

More than a few people were sitting down, looking at the list of those individuals who'd transferred in since LAST year's April 1st to see who the highly inventive perpetrator might be.

 

***Outside Alexander Waverly's office, at the desk of Lisa Rogers:**

Lisa Rogers was almost beside herself. The thought of Thrush even getting a hint of all that was happening at UNCLE New York Headquarters today was beyond humiliating! And they must NEVER know! Why, didn't anyone realize that with all this nonsense going on, no one would ever figure out a genuine Thrush scheme until it was too late. She simply MUST find a way to put a stop to all of this before it was too late!

Groaning, laying her head on the desk for one brief moment, she realized there wasn't one chance of that happening. Still, if she could even understand what had set this off, then maybe she could prevent a like occurrence next year. The problem was, she DIDN'T understand, not in the least.

The call from Mrs. Waverly had finally explained it all.

"I do apologize, Miss Rogers," came the carefully polite voice on the other end of the call. Well, they WERE polite to each other, always, exceedingly polite. They each understood the other's role in Alexander Waverly's life, and felt there was no benefit in any discussion of the matter. Truthfully, although there might have been some private resentment, neither of them really wanted, or felt up to assuming the other's role anyway. Best just to accept that Alexander Waverly was an extraordinary man, with very heavy responsibilities, and more diverse needs than most, and leave it at that.

"I just spoke with Lydia, and she told me what Alexander was up to. It appears the time he spent with the grandchildren last week had him rather nostalgic for the times he'd joined in their April Fools Day pranks. He even put them to work helping them make some of the props he took in with him this morning. Marcy just told Lydia, over the tea table, what her grandfather was intending to put into play, and I knew he would turn to you to help him with everything. You are so good with managing things for him, and I know he appreciates you ever so much, but I do think this was rather beyond the call of duty. I do hope you didn't find it all too dreadfully embarrassing or awkward?"

Lisa gritted her teeth, planted a firm smile on her face; she was a great believer that a smile on the face could be heard in the voice. "Not at all, Mrs. Waverly. It was my pleasure. And I must say he had some of the most interesting ideas. I don't think anyone has any notion he was the one behind any of the fun." She didn't mention that 'fun' wasn't one of the words she'd been calling ANY of what she'd been involved in this day, and there had been SEVERAL words involved.

They made a few more polite remarks, both with those smiles firmly in place, right up to the moment they hung up the phone. Lisa waggled her jaw back and forth, trying to loosen the muscles there. Yes, an appointment with her dentist was most definitely going to be needed.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, each of the two women decided they owed themselves an afternoon at the spa very soon, a good massage, a facial, perhaps a mani-pedi, then an excellent dinner and bottle of wine - all enjoyed in blissful solitude. It was rather a pity, in a way, that they couldn't share the simple pleasures they had in mind. However, the one thing they DID share precluded that. Pity. Luckily, they frequented different spas and had differing tastes in restaurants.

  
**April 2nd:**

The level of relief on the dawning of April 2nd was really remarkable, at least with Lisa Rogers.

In Alexander Waverly's office, he reluctantly placed a small origami frog in his desk drawer. He had intended to leave it on Lisa's desk yesterday, but somehow, just hadn't quite had the nerve. Just something about the look in her eye when he'd told her all the things he had for her to add to her 'odd job' list! Remarkably talented woman, Lisa, in so many ways, but so terribly serious!

 


End file.
